May never die
by Unnamed.in.whispers
Summary: Euron has few sane thoughts in his head; that's the way he likes it… but perhaps now was the time to face some truths. SPOILERS season 8 SPOILERS please don't read any further if you don't want anything ruined. Also – strong language is in keeping with the episode – so the occasional F-bomb is dropped but I will go no stronger!


**Title:** **Pairing:** Euron/Jamie

**Series:** Game of Thrones

**Rating: **15 **Type: **AU/ Angst

**Summary:** Euron has few sane thoughts in his head; that's the way he likes it… but perhaps now was the time to face some truths. SPOILERS season 8 SPOILERS please don't read any further if you don't want anything ruined. Also – strong language is in keeping with the episode – so the occasional F-bomb is dropped but I will go no stronger!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Game of Thrones characters or anything from the universe of A Song of Fire and Ice. I am just taking the characters and playing with them a while – promising to restore them whole and unblemished! Thanks to the George R R Martin for creating these toys for me to enjoy. Please don't take any of my playing as having any bearing on the actual franchise. Enjoy.

()()()

"I got you," Euron shouted after the retreating figure before settling back against the ground. Pain shot through his gut, so he forced the ball of his hand further into the hole that had been left there, thanks to the drive and twist of a Lannister blade.

He was going to die; it was ok.

What was dead may never die. Wasn't that the saying?

After all, he wouldn't be the only one. Euron had got the man who had killed him… making them bonded now in a way that no one could deny.

Wasn't that glorious?

Euron almost laughed with joy… causing a splutter of blood to force its way up his throat and out his mouth…

He was his now… Jaime Lannister belonged to Euron Greyjoy…

Just as Euron Greyjoy belonged to Jaime Lannister…

They were forever linked by these final moments. By blood. By passion.

People would be unable to remember one without the other…

"I am the man who killed Jaime Lannister," he laughed, the feeling jerking pain deeper into his being.

Pain was good… made him remember he was alive.

He knew it wouldn't last. Nothing did.

It was a brief feeling – truly living. He only recalled that feeling of complete clarity once in his life; the Great Siege of Pyke… last battle in the revolt of the Iron islands. And one of his many shames.

Euron's eldest nephew had already fallen to the fury of the mainlanders as they pressed down their dominance over the Iron Islands; driving them back to the rocky islands where the iron-borne could no longer retreat as the mainlanders raged over the shoreline to breach the walls of the castle.

The wailing of a flame-sworded priest had not impressed him… the man was all about screaming and flailing, catching any dense fuck dumb enough to fall toward their end at the tip of his blade.

Eddard Stark had also been among them; now he was a finer figure… but despite his ability, Euron was unimpressed by the Nothern man's long, thick Valyrain steel thrusting with little skill and relying wholly on the power and size of his metal. It worked well enough; cutting down iron-born after iron-born without rest. The old boy had stamina. Who didn't love stamina? But skill… grace... the art of death eluded the Warden of the North entirely.

The battle raged and yet none of the little Lords of the mainland impressed Euron as he observed the carnage from his crows nest aboard _The Silence_.

His crew were loyal but itched impatiently to join their brethren in the fight. Euron knew better… the Drowned God would be welcoming many of their kin this night. Euron was not prepared to be one of them.

In fact, he was beginning to grow bored of breathing in the bloodied gunpowder and hearing the pathetic, gurgling cries of his people begging pitifully for mercy. Euron was ashamed and about to give the order to draw-anchor until…

A cry of warning sounded through the air that the Lannister army had rushed the breach and Euron felt his breath hitch to see the first man rush through the breach; a golden lion, backlit with the flames of the burning iron islands and haloed in reflected sunlight from the sea.

He had been glorious; an embodiment of the Drowned God himself… ethereal and delivering sublime surrender to those he gifted with death from the waves of the sea, to the shore and the land.

Euron recalled gripping his Yeoman by the fabric of his tunic as he gasped… "Who is that?"

The mans name took his breath; perfection.

Jaime. His name was Jaime.

Death flowed in the young Knights wake, allowing his impeccable instrument to surge forward, teasing some with the thought of victory, gently toying with them, drawing them and winding them to him before cutting them down.

Euron felt his mouth dry… Magnificent.

The lion's armour glinted as he cut-down warrior after warrior, taking their lives and making them his own… Lucky bastards, they were his now. There were no words for the art that man was painting in the blood and guts and lifeless bodies of Euron's countrymen.

Somewhere in the midst of this perfection, his crew had moved to sail and Euron wailed in anguish… there was so much more to witness.

From that first moment, as the years melted into the salt-sea, Euron found himself dwelling on the fearless Knight, the Golden Lion… longing to see him… dreaming of him… screaming into the storms until his crew tied him to the mast to save him throwing himself into the waves.

And now, Euron lay, spent, as the capital crumbled around him.

A ragged gasp tore through him, making him cough and splutter as he laughed… Look at them now; their destinies intertwined. Euron went to move, to crawl toward the ocean… but he supposed Jaime had got him deeper than he thought because he had no energy to move and even the attempt caused a great slice of pain to jerk through him, making him cough up thicker, darker blood.

The red across his hands looking like the crimson of Jaime's cloak that first night of surrender.

Back those many years ago, the Iron Islands bowed to the main land, but Euron had returned home and lead his people to build their navy, returning to the capital to claim his birth right… and what he desired along with it.

When Euron finally laid eyes on the Heir of Casterly Rock once more he was… underwhelmed.

Mere months ago he stood in the throne room of Kingslanding, watching that regal Lion hold all that power behind playing the part of a Kingsguard… a servant… a brow-beaten and pussy-whipped nothing.

It turned Euron's stomach.

He had yearned to see this man once more… to taste the metal of blood-tinted air that his sword brought. And when Euron had actually achieved his wish, having travelled the seas, killed his brother and build the fleet he sailed to lay at the feet of the Queen of the seven Kingdoms… he found disappointment…

Because Cercie was more of a man than Jaime had become.

It was a bitter… foul and made him furious.

Euron knew his way to bring the old Jaime would be through the sister… the way the other man bristled but remained silent when Euron betrothed himself to the her... the fire in those green eyes brighter than wildfire… It was delicious.

And if that's all the little prick-tease would give him now… that tingle of danger… well, Euron was going to make damned sure he was going to get as much pleasure out of him as he was able… and couldn't help goading the Lion by asking him, brother to brother, how best to please his new intended.

And there it was.

Like electric passing between them.

The look Jaime had given him made the hairs over his body rise. If it weren't for the company, Euron and Jaime would have crossed blades. And how glorious would that have been?

It was truly baffling that fate would bring him all the way around the known world and across the seas to proposition the Queen… she was, after all, the female equivalent to Jaime himself… strong and beautiful, fierce and graceful.

Now Euron could have, publicly, what Jaime would never be able to have.

And didn't that make him better than the son of Tywin Lannister?

Didn't that make him greater?

Didn't it?

Everything he had done from that point was with one goal; returning to Kings Landing victorious and tumbing himself into her.

But even fucking the Queen meant little when she wouldn't admit his superiority to Jaime.

And he was better, wasn't he?

Still – he had had her, despite the sting of her brother's absence and the knowledge he wouldn't see that tantalising anger in Jaime's eyes.

And Euron clung to the memory of that look… it made his mouth water. Because when he had finally claimed the Queen he had discovered her brother had long-since ridden North and could, for all they knew, have perished on the road or during the battle against the risen dead.

All that was left of Jaime was in his sister now…

Cersie, being so much like her brother, met him power for power; strength with strength. It should have been enough. But those eyes he longed for were not reflected in Jaime's twin; their green flamed and smouldered but did not burn as sweetly.

When Euron had placed a child in her belly, he felt… nothing for her and nothing for his unborn progeny… all he had thought was that no other man could had achieved that goal… except for Jaime.

With every breath, they were becoming one; the Lion and the Kraken.

When the war came to Kingslanding Euron had underestimated the will of the Dragon Queen and failed completely in his attempt to shoot her and her bloody lizard from the sky… instead, they had torn through his armada as though the great galleons were nothing more than paper ships.

His Iron-born joined the Drowned God that day; what is dead may never die.

But not Euron… no. Destiny had drawn him ashore where, he was unsurprised to find, Jaime-fucking-Lannister… brought back from the North in the final moments.

"Kingslayer!" He had cried, exhausted but still moving forward.

Jaime had hardly looked his way, simply shouting about saving the Queen amid the onslaught and fall of the capital.

Euron had tried to explain to him that the city was dying… that their lives were now elsewhere… that there was a boat and a chance for this to be the beginning of a journey and not the end. "It's over," he had told him.

The Lion looked toward the thunder of dragon wings but hadn't seemed to understand and the fool had chosen to turn his back on this simple destiny.

He turned his back on Euron.

And if was to be the last time Euron would see him… the last time he could ever be with him… then nobody else would ever be with him; he just needed that spark, that anger and there was one sure way to do it.

Euron drew his sword and watched the Lanniser freeze, tension knotting the muscles in his back.

"If you kill another King before you die…" Euron goaded as Jaime turned to look at him, "they will sing about you forever."

But instead of any form of threat, Jaime sneered, "You are no King."

Euron agreed, perhaps not, "But I have fucked the Queen."

And there it was… those eyes began to burn again.

"If I win…" he moved closer, like a shark closing in on his prey, "I'll bring your head to Cercie so you can kiss her…"

Jaime looked away – in disgust? In remorse? Had Euron again misjudged? Was Jaime no longer in lust with his sister? Had Euron lost the only hold he had over this man?

He was… again… disappointed… but finished, "One last time…"

The next moment, Jaime was hefting his sword carelessly.

It was easy for Euron to avoid him.

Which made no sense.

Where was the Lion's passion? Where was his want and need?

This dance was nothing Euron had fantasised and obsessed over all these wasted years.

The world began to shake around them as they childishly lashed out to one another.

Perhaps the problem was that Jaime didn't believe this was as serious as it truly was. Maybe he really didn't understand that Euron wasn't willing to let him go so easily and Jaime had turned his back on destiny for the LAST time.

This time, Euron tackled him, hard; grappling him and finding a thrill in the feel of the other mans body beneath his.

Something seemed to snap within his opponent as Jaime's focus began to hone-in and close… his movements becoming sharper, like the Lion remembered he had teeth.

Jaime delivered a blow that sent Euron sprawling for breath and then, rather than fleeing, he was coming at him.

The smell of their blood mixed in the air of the cindering city… adrenaline fired as they punched and bit and kicked each other. But what they truly needed was a sword.

But the moment was ruined when Euron lost control and in a moment of blood lust he drove a dagger into Jaime's side.

Those green eyes burst with confusion and betrayal; he had probably assumed he would never die. And a rush passed through Euron… it wasn't victory. It was mourning - what is dead mat never die, but this was the end of the Lion.

Jaime gave him one moment that stretched out into a lifetime… Euron saw it in his eyes. He surrendedred and crawled away.

It was terrible.

No more duels.

No more moments they could share.

Euron spoke through the blood gushing through his nose to tell his rival, his partner, that he had fought well.

Perhaps they could share his dying minutes and speak of battles or lost hopes and dreams…

But Euron heard Jaime moving and looked to see him crawling toward a sword.

Fucks sake… he wasn't going to give them even the slightest chance of sharing his death in a dignified manner.

The bastard.

He couldn't even give Euron that.

Crossing the space between them, the last King of the Iron Islands shoved the dagger once more into Jaime's side; aiming to disable in a slow death rather than bring a quick end that would cheat them of more time.

So when Jaime shoved him back and drove into him there was no pain… only a type of ecstasy.

Euron heard himself cry out as the steel buried itself into the rock at his back; it was, of course, wonderful. Was there anything this man could not do to Euron that would be lesser than perfection.

They were now to share an end.

Jaime locked their eyes; he knew they would both die.

The Lannister drove in all the further, sealing their joined fates.

The blade twisted, grinding metal against stone.

Perfect.

Then he withdrew; leaving Euron cold and empty, so caught in the moment that he barely registered Jaime pass him and head into the underbelly of the castle.

Euron couldn't believe he was leaving… again… leaving him now they shared so much.

It wasn't true… Jaime could never leave him in a true sense… he could walk away, "But I got you." Euron laughed… blood bubbling up his throat and the darkness rounding his vision…

He was the man who killed Jaime Lannister.

The sea lapped the land as one truth called him home; What is dead may never die.

He would never be alone again.

He would always be with Jaime now in death and, in that way, they would never die.

Perfect.


End file.
